


The raptors within

by Nikkitosa



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:24:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikkitosa/pseuds/Nikkitosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a few smuts, that's all.<br/>Andromeda, the tamer in Jurassic World, has this bizarre gift to sense the animals' thoughts like nobody else. She also likes comparing a certain trainer to his girls, finding traits of him in them; and occasioanlly vice-versa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, the events unfold before the shit with the Indominous-Rex goes down, so basically before the movie.  
> Secondly, the smuts are pretty self-dependent. You can read them in whatever order you like.  
> Also, forgive me the sloppy writing. I don't know what's happening with me these days.  
> Anyway, enjoy! :)

_Traits: feral/ dominant/ conquering_

The heat is killing me slowly but with such vicious patience that no matter how much I try to ignore it, despite the best attempts to prevent my skin from getting grilled or in a way at least keeping my brain from a breakdown due to overheating, it’s all in vain. The long auburn thick curls are pulled in a vice ponytail that literally pulls at the hairs with such vehemence that I am willing to bet money that as soon as I get the elastic off, half my hair will come off with it. The loose shorts meant to keep my body temperature somewhat reasonable by now have proven pretty useless – with the same comfortability I’d have walked around in the thickest pair of jeans I own.  
“Salute, Andy!” Barry’s deep French accent snaps me out of the mental fury.  
“Hey! What do you have for me?”  
Getting up from the bench I have been sitting on for the best part of the day with a book in my hand, the movement makes a wave of protest surge through my body, with my stiff bum as the epicentre. Working as a tamer in Jurassic World is not that much of a time-consuming job on good days – two to three calls is natural and doesn’t even make me break sweat. On bad days, though, it happens I don’t see food or water for the whole of the daylight, spending my hours either driving from one place to another, or simply working with a more troubled dinosaur. Today, apart from being an exceptionally hot day is also a rather uneventful one, so I opted to enjoy it and read in the afternoon after a good swim in the morning. The cool water kept the horrendous heatwaves at bay, thus deluding me to believe the weather to be bearable. God, how mistaken I was.  
“The girls are acting a little bit off. Would you come take a look?”  
Usually being stationed mainly for the big carnivores like T, that sweet cupcake of sunshine that can swallow me whole without even grazing me with her dagger-like teeth, or her sisters I rarely leave my area. There is the occasional Apatosaurus that needs me to calm it down, find out what’s troubling it and then address the needed authorities. And yet my favourites stay the raptors – Owen has trained the girls so well that they rarely need my interference on my side so to stay calm. The few times I was summoned there, it was usually a distressing factor that set them off or irritated their sensitive senses. Still I could be found lodging there more often than at my own secluded bungalow near the ocean.  
“Sure thing. Let me grab my bag and we’ll be off.”  
Inside the bungalow it feels like hell has taken over and Satan has perched his throne in the middle of the living room. With no air-conditioning or a decent fan to at least shift the stuffiness, being outside is desirable to staying in. The leather bag is thrown on the cot I sleep in; inside there’re mostly personal stuff in case of having to reside somewhere else due to late-time case. As a precaution I opt to take along a few injectable medications that may come in handy. Tossing the bag over one shoulder and grabbing the portable radio on the go, I run outside where there’s at least the occasional whiff of the wind to make the beads of sweat go away.  
“Anything special I need to know?” enquiring as soon as I jump in the passenger’s seat of the jeep, I put my sunglasses on so to shade my sensitive eyes from the fireball that’s frozen in the middle of the spotless blue sky.  
“We’re guessing is the heat, but still… They chase around then stop abruptly, fall down and roll before screeching at one another. Charlie even threw herself against the wall a few times.” the memory makes his usually cheerful face darken and a deep frown appears.  
“It sounds like overheating to me, but for better precautions I’ll take a good look.”  
This doesn’t appear to reassure him one bit.  
“They’ll be fine, Barry. I promise.”  
The ride passes in tense silence, both of lost in our thoughts. The speed with which the car takes the ups and downs jolts us around, yet not for once does Barry ease his pressure over the gas pedal.

/***/

The velociraptor’s paddock appears on the horizon like a minuscule fortress whose tall metal walls stand proud and warning. The jeep’s roar seems to alert everybody of our arrival as some of the staff stop whatever they’re doing and look at us. The pause to observe the newcomer slips away as they take notice it’s me, so quick enough they return to their duties as I jump out of the still roaring car and stride towards the raptor’s cage. Barry’s hot on my heels in a second, his ragged breathing coming out in small pants as he tries to keep up with my fast pace. At the first gate I simply go to the big red button and hit it, without waiting for an authorised person to do that for me. The metal bars move up in a low, almost traumatic-agonising pace, accompanied by the grinding sound that makes my skin prickle.  
“Where’s Owen?”  
Barry’s response takes a while to come, as he too appears to have just noticed the absence of the man who should have been waiting for us at the door.  
Finally having lifted enough so that I can duck under and pass, I head for the next, final, metal grate. From between the thick bars I see that what was lush vegetation not even three days ago, so dense that I could barely make out the fast passing of a body, now appears slumped, dried out and barely there.  
“The catwalk?”  
Looking up through the bars, once sure there’s no one around to suddenly jump and scare the crap out me, I inspect the looming over the paddock metal footpath, yet apart from the sun almost blinding me, there’s no trainer there. ‘Odd. He’d never leave the girls unattended, not in a time like this the least. Where is…?’ my inner musing comes to an abrupt halt as it suddenly clicks.  
“Idiot!” hissing under my breath I quickly hit the next red button.  
“Qu’est-ce que?” Barry’s perplexed expression makes me shake my head.  
“He’s in there, that baboon! He of all people should know better than to approach them when they’re unwell.”  
Impatient and worried now that I know Owen is with four dangerous, meat-eating dinosaurs, which by some awful coincidence appear to be affected by the heat wave that hit us today, I don’t wait for the gate to raise to my waist level but directly crawl under. Standing up and dusting off my hands, I check the perimeter for any lurking raptors that may pounce of me, but the open space is void. ‘Good God! If he’s still alive, I’ll kill him!’  
Without waiting for Barry or minding his shouts to not rush ahead unarmed, my feet directly lead me deep within the centre of the paddock – the ‘dead zone’ as it’s called around here. As I reeve between the huge leaves and try not to trip or make too much noise while at the same time staying alert and on the lookout for any surprise attacks, I come across a huge chunk of a bone. I’m no orthopaedist or palaeontologist, so the part of a rather fresh looking bone with some marrow still on it, probably the girls’ breakfast, reminds me why they call this the ‘dead zone’. ‘This is where they drag their food and eat. What falls here doesn’t get to see the light of the day again. Perfect. Fucking perfect.’ Marching straight ahead as I can already hear Owen’s voice not far, my gaze continues to dart around and check for any movement.  
“… Hey! Don’t give me that shit, Blue!” his deep baritone makes me chuckle as soon as I get out of the thick vegetation and in a small clearing.  
Covered in sweat, frowning from the heat and Owen’s inability to be rational and use his brain when it’s highly needed, leave me grumpy and a little bit twitchy, yet at the sight of him scolding the two-foot-something raptor as if it’s a small child immediately fixes my mood.  
“If you wave that finger at her again, she’ll bite it off.”  
All eyes are on me in an instant. The girls open their jaws and flash a row of sharp, dagger-like teeth each while their forelegs lift, the claws ready to skin me alive. Spreading my hands to the side, palms forward, I calmly wait for them to recognise me.  
Being here almost twice a week, and every time carrying a treat with me, all four of them have grown to tolerate my presence from the other side of the bar to a rather satisfactory extent. Yet the rude invasion of their private space is a border I too boldly crossed, so I have to wait for their approval to stay.  
Blue nears me with her predatory gait, claws and teeth ready to defend her sisters; the yellow disc twitch as she studies me before apparently a connection of my scent with a certain emotion or memory makes her nudge my hand with her head, expecting a rat to materialise there. ‘Psh! Who says raptors are not smart?’ Slowly moving my other hand down towards my pouch, I fork in it until I grab what I stuffed in before coming here, and pull it out. All four of the velociraptors eye the dead rat hanging from its tail in my hand as I raise it high over my head.  
“Be a good girl and let me help Charlie, Blue.”  
She gives a shriek and prepares for her favourite game. Legs spread, body leaning forward and eyes fixated on the target, she’s eager to fetch. As if under a silent command Delta and Echo take positions, circling me from the front.  
“Steady.”  
They twitch and anxiously step from foot to foot, yet neither makes a move to lung forward.  
“Steady.”  
Pulling two more rodents from the pouch, one hand still held straight ahead so that they know to stay put, I can’t contain the smile that stretches my lips.  
“Now stay and don’t move!” emphasising each and every word and holding their gazes one by one, I finally turn around and throw the rats as far as I can.  
Blue’s feet thud at the ground and she gives an aggravated cry, greatly displeased with being made to wait. By now the smile has stretched into a smirk and I let my hand drop.  
“Go!”  
In a whirl of dust, thudding of feet, claws rowing at the ground and shrieks of happiness cutting at the still suffocating air, the three raptors dash away and hide between the leaves.  
“Took you long enough, Dr Dolittle.” Grady looks me up and down, his eyes lingering a thud bit more than appropriate.  
“Well, since you were so foresighted to call me, I came as fast as the jeep could go without breaking down to its components.”  
He didn’t call me when he should have; instead preferring to play the dominant male that takes care of everything by himself, Owen appears to finally have reached that point where he realises that maybe he should have ringed me as soon as he noticed any abnormalities.  
Choosing to refrain from any further comment, as he’s perfectly aware I will snap and probably hurl something at him, he resolves to stand on guard and make sure the three sisters don’t come from behind while I inspect Charlie.  
The velociraptor is in a semi-crouching position, her eyes alert and moving almost frantically from side to side, searching for a way out. All her muscles flex and strain as she shifts her weight, her tail anxiously waving behind her.  
“It’s alright, Charlie. It’s me. I won’t hurt you.”  
Extending my hand and trying to call out to her, to reassure her nothing bad is about to happen, I note how she appears sickly pale, as much as that can be said about a reptile.  
The main reason Mr Masrani appointed me as a tamer is because of my peculiar ability to communicate with the animals; I wouldn’t call it exactly speech, as it has nothing to do with that franchise about the doctor who talked with a dog, or Steward Little, though I wish I had a mouse who drove a mini car and is smart. Instead, the whole process comes down to a form of a mental link – the animals sense what I am telling them rather than actually understanding the words.  
At first Charlie is reluctant, even scared to come to me, yet after a minute or so she submits and cautiously nears. As a reward for the trust, I pull a rat from my pouch and carefully give it to her. Wanting to hand-feed a carnivorous with a row of pretty sharp teeth the same way you feed a dog is usually not a smart move, yet what follows leaves me taken aback. Instead of lunging at the snack and devouring it in a single bite, without my hand preferably, Charlie only sniffs it before shaking her head and giving a pitiful screech.  
“Oh, baby… What’s wrong with you?” the coo urges her to come and in two steps her head is pressed against my extended hand.  
The gesture resembles the one of a mother checking her child’s temperature and true to the initial worry, that’s what I find – unlike her sisters who somehow cope with the unusual temperatures, Charlie here is having way too high of a body temperature for a cold-blooded creature.  
It takes me all my sense of rational thinking to refrain from any comment or straightforwardly hitting Owen behind the neck for not calling earlier.  
“How is she?”  
His voice is laced with barely concealed worry, with only cold resolve there to top it.  
“Her body temperature is high but beyond that she’s fine.”  
Everything in my response shouts that I do not wish to speak further. Pulling a small box with syringes in it, I take one out and after making sure Charlie won’t snap or straight ahead bite my head off, I push the thick needle through her skin and inject her with the needed medication.  
“There, there. It’s all over now, baby. You’ll be fine.”  
Running my hand over her neck in a soothing and reassuring manner, I success in calming her down enough so to move away without agitating her.  
“Let’s go.”  
Not waiting for Owen’s response I walk ahead, alert of my surroundings and aware of the way the Alpha’s eyes have been drilling holes in the back of my head the whole time. His domineering aura surrounds me like an invisible cloak whenever we are together and the feeling of him wanting nothing more but to submit me leaves a rather exhilarating feeling coursing through me. However, right now I’m so infuriated at him that his charm and male power don’t work as impressively as usual.  
The metal doors close behind us with a low ringing sound and once again we are back to safety. Barry appears to have sweated a whole lot since I rushed inside the enclosure as recklessly as I did, so I nod in apology without stopping.  
Owen marches right behind me like a shadow, his own turbulent emotions charging the air around us further. Stubbornly preferring to ignore him, it comes as no surprise when he grabs me by the elbow and turns me around. His grip, despite not painful, is firm and unbuckling as he seeks to capture my gaze when nothing I want more is to leave. ‘I need to get out of here before I kiss him. Ugh! I’m supposed to be freaking mad at him!! Sweet cherubs and crucifixes! The heat is affecting me as well.’  
“What the fuck were you thinking back there!? Haven’t I told you to never go in there without someone to protect you?!” his voice is a little above an angry whisper, a clear sign he’s trying hard not to yell.  
“You are the one to talk! And for your information you can’t boss me around!” hissing and snatching my hand free, and in the process almost smacking myself across the face, I turn around and make a move to leave, yet he grabs me again.  
“Let me go, you oaf!” kicking and tossing around like a small child, I shriek when in a fit of rage or hopelessness Owen throws me over his broad shoulder and walks with thudding steps towards his bungalow. “How dare you!! Let me down or I’ll make you regret it!!”  
My legs would have landed a few good blows to his chest, hadn’t he grabbed them tight and pressed them together, thus immobilising me. Eventually I give up on the retaliation and simply allow myself to be carried like a rucksack inside the bungalow, which is surprisingly cooler than mine. Not having any time to reflect over that injustice, I get quite off-headedly tossed on the cot. My body bounces for a few seconds, the tank top riding up all the way under my breasts.  
“Jackass!” wheezing out, the second I manage to breathe again, I’m on my feet, neck craned up so that I can respectably be face in face with the broad-chested male.  
“What the hell do you think you are doing!? Do I look like a sack of potatoes so to be carried like that around!”  
“You definitely show signs of metamorphosis today! What the hell have I told you about entering the raptors’ enclosure?! Huh?”  
Being a head taller, Owen successfully looms and imposes his male dominance over me. His eyes flash dangerously and for a second I catch a golden flicker skip past them, before the vehemence intensifies the forest green to a deeper shade. The odour of leather, sweat and a man engulfs me and immediately weakens any retaliation I may have had.  
“What’s the deal Owen!? Why didn’t you call me when you saw something was happening with the girls?! Were you waiting for someone to drop dead?”  
It’s cruel to speak in such a way, knowing how much he cares for them, yet in the span of the few months I have been an almost regular visitor, I have grown to love them as well. Seeing Charlie so weak today and without any appetite struck quite a blow to me as well.  
“You want to know why I acted reckless? Because you didn’t act at all!!! You should have fucking called first thing in the morning, dammit!”  
Pushing against his chest is like fighting a stone wall, yet he has melted the few steps between us instantaneously and now I can feel his body’s heat washing over me in waves. Little by little my resolve to punch him in the face morphs into something entirely different.  
“I didn’t want to bother you.” the storm is literally brooding over his head and I know that a slight nudge is all it takes right now to make him unleash everything that’s been piling up.  
“Bother me?” the chocked laugh comes out rather grotesque, yet I cannot help but feel too shocked to even be sufficiently angry. “I’m being paid to be bothered, Owen!”  
Panting and barely able to contain myself from smacking him, I move past his large frame and start pacing back and forth, desperately needing my resolve and levelheadedness back. Yet, with a hot-headed man as him, it is pretty much a waste of energy to even wish so.  
“I determine whether your interference is needed or not, and I allow you to enter the enclosure! There are rules around her, Andromeda! You can’t just bring your ass here and step on each and every single one of them!!”  
Stopping dead in my track I can’t help but gape at him. ‘He’s mad because I went against his rules; made him doubt his judgement… baby raptors, the Alpha male feels threaten by a woman!’ I’d have snorted and rolled my eyes if he wasn’t glaring at me with such passion that something in me begins to grind and spin. The waves of anger and agitation flow into a new rhythm and now it’s desire and lust that thicken my blood.  
“You’re not mad because I went in there. You’re mad because I disobeyed you. What an ego you have there, Owen. Haven’t you learned that I cannot, won’t, be controlled? I’m not one of your girls, Grady. You cannot submit me so easily.”  
In an instant I’m pinned against the nearest wall, my hands tightly held above my head and my chest almost completely pressed against his. Despite the sticky heat that breaches the coolness of the bungalow, the proximity of his body acts as an aphrodisiac and my heart picks up speed. His scent fills the air around me and from that point onward what unfolds, if not expected, has at least been looked forward to.  
His kiss is underlined dominant as he literally conquers and battles everything he sees fit. The act of bruising my lips and nibbling at them leaves what was a speckle of doubt about the righteousness of this to disappear in a blur of lip locking. Calloused hands grip me by the waist and pin me even harder to his body. There’s no time to breathe, to recollect myself, once he pulls away for long enough to yank the tank top over my head and discard it to the side. His stubble leaves a red trail in its way from my neck all the way down between the valley of my breasts. Owen nips and kisses the skin, marks it with hickeys, and reminds me that no matter how tough I play it, in his presence I’ll always be the submissive one. Not because I’m spineless or will go against my way to please him, but because I enjoy the battle beforehand and the way he makes me yearn to be pinned down, held close, devoured until all that’s left of me is a moaning and shouting mess of trembling skin, ragged breaths and sweat.  
“How do you manage to push all my buttons at once?”  
His growl vibrates against my chest seconds before he discards my bra and his lips immediately attack while his hands travel further down and get rid of my shorts.  
“I enjoy seeing you lose control, I guess.”  
Out of breath and already eager for him to be in me, the confession makes him suck hard at my nipple and gently bite it, thus earning a low throaty moan. Burying my fingers in his hair and tugging, he growls again and swiftly moves to the other bud, not forgetting to leave a trail of kisses behind.  
Each and every movement from this moment onwards will be aimed at making me swallow back those words; whatever he does to me will be to make me beg for him. And the bastard knows I’ll cave in sooner or later. He’s that good at pleasing and teasing his woman.  
Yet today is no-play day. He’s rough and hastily moving, eager and impatient, dominant and wanting to submit me to his will as soon as possible. And he knows just the way to do it.  
With a single flip, my chest and hands are pressed to the cold wall and my bum is reared backwards by his hands gripping my waist. Leaning against me so that I can sense the beating of his heart, Owen places a few gentle kisses over my shoulder, before his low, grow-like voice husks the words against my skin, making it prickle.  
“I’m going to fuck you hard, Andromeda. Right here. Right now.”  
His teeth graze against my shoulder and under such ministration I shudder. Whatever was left of my resolve is now completely gone. Yet I won’t back down without at least a small fight.  
Angling myself so that I have a better pressure point, I grind my bum against the bulge in his pants, successfully eliciting a groan-like moan. Immediately he presses himself firmer, allowing me to feel each and every outline of his body. The shirt or the tight jeans do nothing but act as a barrier between us at present, as I can feel how hard he is under the denim that irritates my soft skin.  
Allowing me to feel what’s going on with his body makes me breathe in sharply between y gritted teeth, the swishing sound getting muffled by his groan.  
“But I’ll first make you beg for it.” the whisper is dark, almost sinister in its underlined promise, and something in me trembles.  
There’s no time to respond as he begins his attack at once, hands ripping away my thong and giving my bum a firm squeeze. I yelp and make a move to turn when his other hand wraps around my ponytail and he yanks with enough pressure to grab my attention without hurting me; this move is so dominant in its nature that mostly by instinct rather than pain I stop fighting.  
“You drive me insane. Even when you are not here. I think it fair to return the favour.”  
The pressure of his fingers, calloused from longs days spend working, against my already glistering founds makes me hiss and arch my back. Simultaneously he tugs at my hair and angles my face so that I can look at him. It’s because I want to keep my status as a rebel and irritate him that I avoid his glowing eyes and stare on the wall.  
“Eyes on me.”  
Since the clicker is not here at present, he spanks me. The low muttered curse gets muffled by his lips colliding with mine the same instant one digit enters me. Rubbing himself against my now tingling bum and teasing my clit, while his tongue rapes my mouth leaves me dizzy and unable to think rationally. With no coherent thoughts to lead my mind, the second best thing to guide me is emotion. And right now I want this thick lust and desire within me satisfied.  
Finally looking at him, I’m rewarded with another finger entering me. By some deeply rooted instinct I want to close me eyelids and enjoy the sensation, but I know better than to do that as Owen’s gaze holds mine so intensely that breaking the connection appears impossible. His whole being moves in perfect sync, the same pace ravages me wherever his fingers land; it’s as if he sways under the tune of a song only he can hear.  
“Owen.” rasping out, my voice holds a small tingle of plea in it; enough to detect it but not to satisfy his desires.  
“What is it, babe?” purring against my ear and nibbling at the lobe, his fingers suddenly crook inside of me, making my back arch.  
The word is literally on the tip of my tongue, as well as my orgasm for that matter, yet his abrupt stop makes me hiss. Preventing any further movement by yanking my head back using the ponytail, his other hand grasps my inner thigh and begins to draw lazy circles there with his middle finger.  
Kissing my neck innocently while shamelessly rubbing his growing bulge against my bum, even if I wanted to form a sentence, I wouldn’t be able to.  
“Say it.”  
At first it’s a gentle whisper sealed against my glistering skin, muffed yet commanding. Then he repeats it like an order and when I still don’t obey, a dark mischievous smirk forms over his lips.  
“Say it, Andromeda. Say it, or I’ll turn around and leave you hanging like this.”  
In an instant what little distance he put between us is over and he’s pressed so firmly to my back that his zipper drives into my bum in an almost painful manner. What was a slow swing under unheard tunes now evolves into a full-blown tango as he grinds harder, his fingers, now three and back into my aching core, set a faster pace and his mouth continues to attack my most estrogenic zones. A set of deep moans follows, accompanied by pants as all the air suddenly gets knocked out of my lungs.  
It’s him – he’s everywhere. In the oxygen I breathe in there’s his scent, his sex drive, his testosterone that invades me. His body knows mine so well that he manipulates and uses it like a professional until I can’t see or feel anything but him. The way his manhood presses against my bum, his chest muscles carve into my back, his fingers pumping in and out of me; the hand that tugs at my hair and motions me to move. No matter what I do, it’s always him that I return to.  
“Please.” the word slips past my lips the second he stops moving all at once, sensing my approaching orgasm.  
“Say it again.” his hot breath tickles my ear and makes me shudder, or is it his hand that’s now positioned on my lower stomach that does it?  
“Please, Owen.”  
Looking him straight in the eyes, I know that my own green irises mimic his – dialled pupils and intensified green, induced by the surging lust.  
He holds my gaze the whole time he finger-fucks me against the wall. Even when I feel like I’m suffocating from the ecstasy and my world threatens to shatter from the mind-blowing pressure that’s about to be unleashed, he keeps on holding my gaze.  
I come all over his hand with a yell, which despite its transiency is quite high-pitched. A low grunt gets muffled against my shoulder and that’s the only indication of any reaction from Owen at this point.  
Next comes the sudden coldness and emptiness as his warmth disappears only for the sound of shuffling of clothes to follow. Using this momentous break to calm myself and collect the remains of my sanity, a low shudder runs down my spine before his hands wrap around my waist and I’m turned around.  
With a single motion Owen lifts me up and on their own accord my legs wrap around his middle and pull him close, ankles locked behind his back. There’s no time for niceties or gentle foreplay as we are both beyond that point. He fills me up with in single movement, making me shout and arch my back, my breasts pressing against his naked chest while he muffles his growl in my neck. The pace at first is slow, with deep and prolonged thrusts that stretch my inner walls, leaving a sense of bitter-sweet pain behind until my body adjusts so to accommodate him better.  
Leaving a trail of hickeys wherever he sees fit and making me squirm each and every time he rotates his hips and enters me with an unexpected harsh thrust, Owen takes his time marking my skin.  
“Hey! Eyes on me.” his voice is hoarse and gruff, reminding a feral growl in my ear.  
It takes great power to make my lids flutter open and for my eyes to focus on his, yet the instinct to shy away under the intensity of his gaze that burns my skin is too strong. Sensing my inclinations of disobedience he slams back into me harshly, making a loud moan slip past my lips.  
“Eyes on me, babe.” his hot breath fans across my face and I urge myself to go against my ways and look his straight in the eyes while he rams into me.  
Forehead against forehead, with our pants mixing and sweat covering our bodies, we hold each other’s gaze like our lives depend on it.  
“Say it.” tilting his head slightly, his lips skip over mine.  
“Fuck me.”  
A momentous silence befalls the room before it gets abruptly shattered by sounds of passion – loud moans accompanied by low grunts; skin colliding with skin; ragged breaths and breathed out jumbles of words. Having grasped the back of my thighs firmer and pressing me even harder against the wall, Owen shows me just how generous he could be once I allow him to have his way. The pace is erratic and consistent as each and every muscle in his body is strained to the point of snapping. What only started as heaviness in my lower stomach now rapidly grows until it spreads throughout me and makes my skin too tight for my being.  
“Ah! Owen! Yes…! Oh, God! AH!” the words slip past my lips unconsciously and incoherently as my release nears.  
It feels like I burst around the seams, like I was ridden of my skin and set free. Like a tidal wave wiped me out in one clear shot and send me to oblivion. The bliss and ecstasy make my body convulse once and then stiffen before relaxing all of a sudden. Lost in the rawness of the release, I skip to realise that I’m clawing at Owen’s back, while his teeth sink into the juncture of my neck.  
Exhausted yet unwilling to simply slide us down the wall, he carries us to the bed and flops down. With his messy hair now spread over my chest as he laid his head there, and our lower bodies still pretty much joined, the ex-military quickly begins to lose the battle to sleep. Grabbing at the blanket and tossing it over our heated bodies, I cradle him closer. Untangling his hair and running my fingers through it, in no time he’s snoozing off, the weight of his body being a nice reminder of his presence.  
“Well, now at least I know from whom Blue took that dominant streak…”  
Owen’s low growl and the way his hand grips my waist mean that the low mutter meant for my ears only reached his half-asleep ones as well. Giggling and massaging his scald, he purrs with content and eventually his breathing evens out.  
Gradually I feel my own consciousness slipping away into the clutches of sleep. Involuntarily my body snuggles closer to Owen’s, whose smell of leather, sweat and sun mixed with something pronouncedly male lulls me.


	2. Delta

The influx of new workers always evokes havoc pretty much everywhere. Excessively so in the raptor paddock, which is forever the epicentre of destruction. Generally suspicious and irritable around unfamiliar faces, when ten new unknown men come and invade their territory, it’s just natural that the girls’ senses will go overboard the way they do. Trashing around and screeching nonstop, what should have been a week dedicated to rest and lazing around turned into a temporary camping at Owen’s bungalow. Again.   
“Blue! Hey! Eyes on me, girl!” the clicker works overtime, its irritating sound getting drilled into the back of my skull.  
Climbing the stairs and coming to stand on the edge of the criss-crossed walkway, my eyes study Owen’s posture for a while. With his straight shoulders, clenched jaw and eyes slightly narrowed, he’s the epitome of a leader who’s having fallout with his subordinates. To prove my point, Blue raises her head and emits a high-pitched rebellious shriek. Her sisters follow suit moments later.  
“Don’t give me that shit!” he growls, to which his girls reply with a symphony of angry hisses.  
Sensing the meaning hidden behind these primal sounds better than him, to a certain extend I can’t help but be sympathetic with the raptor’s confusion and explicable vexation – any male who nears is a potential rogue wanting to overpower their Alpha and hence submit them. ‘If it only was that easy…’ a smirk tugs at my lips before finally I announce my presence.  
“Owen, give them a break. They’re too short-tempered today for any sort of training.”  
At my appearance the raptors make a move and disperse, finally free from their Alpha’s merciless hold.  
“Look what you did.” he pouts but I see his shoulders relaxing none the less, the pressure from a minute ago – gone.  
“They feel threatened. Try to walk in their shoes – at present there are way too many new males lurking around.”  
Rolling his eyes melodramatically he walks by me, seemingly with the intention to pass by and leave. Suddenly his strong arms wrap around my middle and he pulls me flush against his broad chest, making me yelp in the process. Nuzzling my neck and keeping me enveloped protectively, even territorially, Owen subconsciously acts just like any feral male specimen around his female.  
“I don’t like these interns.” the obvious is stated with a low disgruntled voice, making me roll my eyes.  
“You don’t like these men.”  
Chuckling as a quite animalistic growl resonates over my skin, I snuggle closer to him, my back and rear rubbing sensually against his rock-hard front. A content hum follows.  
“I’ll look after the girls today. You may as well go finish that paperwork you’ve been delaying forever.”  
His scoff is closely followed by his lips attacking my neck, the few-days-old stubble tickling and scratching the tender skin. In an instant I melt under his mischievous lips, as they know exactly which spots to kiss and suck hard enough so to send my body reeling and trembling. On its own accord my head tilts to the side, thus providing better access and angle to my now pulsating flesh.  
“Owen.” the low moan makes him growl, “We have work to do.”  
Yet my words fall to deaf ears. Sucking passionately and them biting, like a true barbarian he marks the delicate skin with what surely will be quite impressive, eye-catching and vibrant hickey. Yelping and prying free from his hold, I spin around and slap him across the arm.  
“Are you gonna raise your foot and pee on me now?”  
Massaging the tingling patch of skin, I do my best to subside the desire that his attack kindled and shift back to professional mode. Despite how adorable his territorial streak may be, it’s also exceptionally grating when he displays it so to prove a point or in this case – mark me like a piece of furniture. A small wrinkle appears between my now knitted eyebrows as I frown at him disapprovingly.   
“If that’ll keep the dogs away, then yes.”  
His straightforward confession leaves me gaping for a second, barely able to subside the desire to smack him behind the neck and tell him off. Blunt and highly irritable, I can easily imagine how well he’ll cope with being a raptor – without any warnings whatsoever he will jump on people and chew their heads off if they cross him.   
Obviously realising that his reply is not I’d like to hear, as my frown has grown into a full-blown angry snarl, Owen raises his hands in defeat.  
“Fine. Okay. Sorry. It wasn’t funny.”   
Scratching the back of his head and looking away, the sheepish look on his face makes me drop the grudge thing, as he appears to be just as conflicted and confused as everybody else.   
“Come ‘ere, champ.”  
Our lips meet in a conquering and teasing dance. His tongue coaxes me to open my mouth, thus eliciting a deep throaty moan. Time seems to slow down its movement as Owen pulls me closer to him and deepens the kiss by tipping my head back. The surrounding world shifts into a mere shadowy background.   
As usual by the time we part I’m breathless and panting, with my heart drumming like crazy against its ribcage. With our foreheads touching and breaths mixing, I can’t help the warmth that spreads through me due to the male’s ostentation; true, he does it so to mark his territory in a more subtle way, believing I’m not bright enough to detect his underlying motifs, yet it’s also incredibly sweet and adorable, so I let the first part skip past me.  
“Don’t overdo yourself too much.”  
His hot breath against my ear shell and the huskiness that thickens his voice send pleasant chills chasing down my back. Suddenly I want nothing more but for this day to be over so that I can lock myself in the bungalow with Owen.

/***/

The more time I spend watching over the girls, the more I take notice of the way the new additions look at me; some are curious and follow me around like chicks - their mother hen. Others glance at me yet disregard my presence whatsoever as soon as they hear what my placement is; for them the term tamer evokes associations with the circus, it appeared. And then there are the few representatives of the tougher sex that simply don’t get the meaning of the huge hickey stamped on my neck – for one reason or another they approached me throughout the day with seemingly innocent questions and requests, yet given the occasion they’d indulge in different matters, apart from strictly professional.   
Sitting cross-legged in front of the paddock, with only the bar gate between myself and the girls, through the thick vegetation I can see all four of the sisters closely following the buzzing activity. For some unfortunate reason, all my efforts to sooth them were in vain. Echo and Charlie somewhat calmed down to certain extend; enough to stop pacing around and hiss at everything and everyone, yet the other two are far from tranquil. Blue holds ground as the beta in the pack, while simultaneously being on high alert so I guess that’s not that bad either, as long as no one makes a move to near her. Delta, on the other hand, is on a whole new level of bad-shit crazy. I have never seen her this irritated and vicious; each noise that’s unfamiliar she classifies as innominate threat and thus proceeds to annihilate it in any way possible. More times than I wish to count she threw herself against the gate, eager to tear apart the interns that were foolish enough to sneak this close. And while she was never completely alone in her assaults against the enclosure, the others remained considerably more collected in a manner of behaviour. Jumpy, yes, but not so aggressive.   
Perplexed and somewhat worried about her state of mind, I appear to have been sitting here, contemplating, for more than normal, as footsteps suddenly echo behind me, followed by the opening of the first gate. The reaction is immediate – all the movement in the bushes ceases and without being able to see them, I know they are watching us closely. ‘Odd. Why are they being so suspicious?’   
“Hello there, Andy.” a deep male voice greets from behind and I place the odd drawl with one of the new additions.  
Standing up and dusting myself off, I turn to face the ginger-haired Mark, a man at least a head taller than myself and two times wider. It’s obvious he’s that kind of man who takes pleasure in intimidating and tormenting his victims, as well as molesting and bullying them. The sheer gleam in his eyes is a dead giveaway, if the sadistic smirk fobs as merely mocking. A day spend working around him further solidified the inner warning to stay on my guard whenever he’s close.  
“What can I do for you, Mark?”   
“I was wondering ‘bout dinner, but a drink will do as well.”  
A low cackle-like sound comes from behind yet I ignore it as my mind is too dumbstruck to actually assimilate it accordingly. It takes a great deal of self-restrain not to tell him off rudely, using not one or two juicy epithets, as a few times today I caught him talking behind my back. ‘The nerve this guy has!’ reeling on the inside, I put up a real Oscar-worthy show on the outside. The whiff of air whips my hair over one shoulder, thus revealing the now purplish hickey marking my neck.   
“I’m sorry Mark, but I can’t. It goes against my collegial approach.” smiling apologetically, I pray he’ll shrug it off and be gone.  
What follows next is his booming sinister laugher which falls down like hammers over my ears, unaccustomed to such a vile sound. It’s like someone’s dragging his nails against a chalkboard. A sudden change takes place in the male’s posture and demeanour, making my muscles tense at the sense of danger that sets into my gut.   
“So it’s collegially appropriate to fuck that cowboy, but a drink with me ain’t?” the sneer and narrowed eyes suddenly bring forward the association with a coiled snake.   
“Fine. Let me rephrase that for you – I’m not going out with you. Period. And as far as my personal life is concerned, you don’t get to voice any opinion on it.”  
The collected and welcoming woman from a few hours ago is gone; in her place is the ex-national champion in swimming who conquered many professional peeks and worked her way to the top. One that will not allow a man to push her around like a ragdoll. Squaring my shoulders, setting my lips in a thin line and narrowing my eyes, the message my posture sends is clear enough so that even the biggest idiot will get it. Well, not Mark-boy here.   
Unexpectedly fast for his size, he jumps forward with the intention to grab me. Stepping to the side and bending under his outstretched hands, I make a move to get out of here before he gets me cornered, yet once again I’m unprepared for his unnatural agility. He grabs me roughly by the shoulder and tosses me against the bars.   
The air wheezes out of my lungs at the impact, making me bend in half and pant, a fierce pain shooting down my back. What would have been a cry gets choked as Mark throws himself on me, tumbling us down with him on top. Tossing and wriggling, there’s still no oxygen reaching my lungs to scream, so I’m left with my nails as the only weapon. Clawing at his face and kicking as hard as I can, the anger that bubbles beneath the surface crashes into me with full-force, an enraged yell getting squeezed past my contracting lungs.   
What follows next is so extraordinary, so bizarre and unexpected, that it literally hits us like a steam hammer. Mark, with his physical strength, would have easily overpowered me despite the best attempts to kick him in the nuts, wasn’t it for the sudden side attack. A set of large claws literally appears out of nowhere, accompanied by a terrifying screech, meant to scare the daylight out of the harasser. The pained yell that comes from my attacker is indicative of the success of the raptor ambush. Using the opportunity, I scramble away and press my back to the opposite end of the wall, following his howls of pain and clumsy movements with widen eyes. And while Mark tries to collect himself, Delta continues her assault over the bars, showing her great desire to get her claws on him and cut him in small pieces. It appears her sisters share that enthusiasm as even the usually gentle Echo now crashes her body against the bars and sneaks her muzzle through them, her jaws gaping open so to show her sharp teeth, ready to mince. The message is clear – if he doesn’t back down, at the first given chance they’ll leave only rags and bones of him. Finally the little left brain cells in Mark’s head appear to get stirred back to life and he skitters away immediately, but not before colliding with the door on his way out.  
Left panting and at the verge of tears, I close my eyes for a second, needing time to recollect myself and shake off the feeling of being physically molested. ‘Take yourself in hands, woman! He’s not the first, nor the last man trying to throw himself on you. Keep your shit together.’ Breathing in and out a few times, a sudden nudge on the side of my hand throws me back into the present. Throwing a sideway glance I almost pass out at the sight of Delta’s head pushing my upper hand, the warm air coming out of her nostrils tickling my skin. In the spur of emotional turmoil that clouds my judgement I run my hand over her head, the feeling of her silky skin making me smile.   
“’Datta girl. You did a great job at saving my sorry ass.”   
The small gurgling sound can only be her equivalent of a purr, since her vocal cords can hardly reproduce such low frequencies.   
All four of them stay by my side until I manage to collect and calm myself enough to stand up.   
“Let this stay between the five of us, okay?” looking each and every one of them in the eyes, I once again glimpse at the intellectual depth they possess.   
Before I know it all four of them are gone, hidden in the thick vegetation, yet watching closely and jealously protecting their territory. ‘No. Their pack.’ 

/***/

Thankfully for the rest of the day there are no more incidents and no more Mark; wherever that man went, I hope he stays there and never returns. Once the aftershock washed away, pure unadulterated fury sprung to life, making me highly irritable and belligerent. Which, ironically, further increased the male interest in me. For all its worth, Owen stayed in the office long enough so to be oblivious to all the looks and moves that got aimed my way. Were it any different, I bet he’d have incited the girls and together they’d have pretty much wiped clean the island of any questionable representatives of the tougher sex.   
As the hours tickle away until the end of the work day, I feel more and more itched to get away and have some quality time with Owen. Yet this blissful dream keeps on getting prolonged as men continuously appear to be slowing down my work with their questions, badly-times moves (I got spilled with water four times, dammit!) and so on.   
“Hey, Andy!” Barry’s voice snaps me out of my almost murderous gazing at the darkening sky.  
He sounds worried if not even afraid, which is quite unusual as he’s the level-headed and cool as a cucumber one around here.   
“What’s up, Barry?” Standing up from my place over the pathway looming over the paddock, the only save heaven that keeps pretty much everyone away, I quickly walk his way.   
It’s a rather disturbing sight how his chocolate skin has acquired an ashy hue, how his eyes are at the verge of bulging out of their sockets, or how he seems to be literally vibrating from whatever emotion got him racing all the way here.  
“It’s Owen.”   
Suddenly my own skin appears dry and pulled and each and every fibre in me freezes in anticipation.   
“He’s got his hands on Mark.”  
Before I know it, I’m running down the stairs and in the general direction of where the sound of wrestling seems to be coming from. Hot on my heels and briefing me in, Barry appears more worried about Mark’s life expectancy than Owen’s.  
“Who was the idiot who told him?”   
All the running leaves me panting, yet we are almost there and I can clearly make out the sound of skin hitting skin, so I nudge myself faster.   
“One of the newbies saw what happened and spread it around. Owen heard it by chance.”   
No more words are needed as soon enough I can see with my own eyes what comes out when Owen’s rage needs an outlet, which by some random chance is another breathing human being. The fight between the two big men is primal and brutal to the point where a tremor of fear runs down my spine.   
There’s a semi-circle around the two wrestling men who aim fists at one another with worrying punctuality. No one’s cheering or urging them on, yet no one is trying to stop them either. Myself and Barry arrive just in time to see Owen serving a fine uppercut to Mark’s jaw, sending him flying back and hitting the ground with a thud. The man cries out in pain and clenches his face while his rival looms over him threateningly.   
“Get of your feet, you scum!” his growl is low and feral, underlined dangerous. “You like attacking cornered women and forcing yourself on them, huh? Get up, you piece of shit!”  
Obviously with no patience left, Owen kicks him in the stomach, sending the ginger rolling in my feet. Gazing down at the bloody heap of a man who is moaning and whining like a child something in me finds sick joy in his current state; he’s weak, demolished, brought to his knees and humiliated – the bully is shoved in his place and shows no signs of ever returning on his previous throne. Yet on the other hand I feel pity; low self-esteem and bad upbringing make people like Mark come to be the way they are. That’s no excuse for what he tried to do, yes, but it’s no reason for Owen to turn him into a plumb.   
“Enough! Break it off.”   
Following my example Barry and a few other workers who were honestly disgruntled with the fight help disperse the crowd before helping Mark to the medical centre. Using the moment I go to Owen and grab his bloody hands in mine. His eyes are averted to the side and hold that fury and roar for justice. His clenched jaw and the stiffness of his muscles speak of the tense and wavering self-control he has.   
“Come on, Alpha. Let’s get you cleaned up.”  
Pulling him all the way to the bungalow, he doesn’t utter a word or fight my hold around his wrists, but silently trails along with an angry face. Currently testosterone is clouding his judgement too much to make him grasp the seriousness of the situation he put himself into by attacking a fellow co-worker, but at least is reasonable enough to allow me to help.   
Sitting in a chair and mutely glaring at a dot somewhere to the side, for as long as I clean his hands and rub ointment in them Owen successfully ignores my presence.   
“You shouldn’t have attacked him so openly. You can lose your job if he files a complaint.”   
No response follows. Still silently oozing aggression and pure rage, I don’t know which is the best way to proceed with a male that’s at the given moment is still pretty much blood-thirsty. ‘Delta wouldn’t back down until the threat was gone. And even after that she stayed to make sure I was fine.’ musing over yet another similarity between trainer and raptor, I finally bandage Owen’s knuckles. By tomorrow there’ll be no sign of the white linen, but for the time being he’ll stick with it out of necessity.   
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you straight away.” kneeling between his parted legs and resting my hands over his thighs, I gaze up at his still blazing blue eyes.   
“I understand that you are mad, but-”  
“Mad?! I’m not mad! I’m fucking furious, Andromeda!! Why didn’t you come to me straight away!? Why did I have to find out from the mouths of those gossipers?!” he’s riling up exceptionally fast, yet there’s truth in his statements and sense in his questions.   
“I’m sorry.”  
“Fuck that Andromeda! To hell with your excuses!”   
He stands up and walks away, leaving me on my knees in front of the empty chair. I have no right to be angry at him or feel offended by his words, yet they still hurt. Badly.   
His pacing steps echo in the eerily silent bungalow as the light slowly melts into darkness. My foot nervously taps against the floor and I find myself mentally counting to ten and back so to calm down.   
“I get it. I do. But you cannot expect of me to run to you each and every time someone tries to break me. I’m not fashioned that way, and you knew that since the beginning.”   
Facing him with the cool resolve of an independent woman, I hope the small attack and stick-up tactic won’t backfire at me.   
“He fucking tried to…” the word gets stuck in his throat and he groans out-loud in aggravation.   
“But he didn’t! Delta and the girls intervened just in time.”   
“And what if they hadn’t, hm? What then?” he basically hisses that in my face, coming to stand so close that I can sense the blood humming in his veins.  
“Then I hope you’d be there to pick up the pieces.”   
Looking straight into his ocean-deep eyes, I pray to find his former self and nudge him forward. The confession that if something bad is to happen to me I’d like him to be by my side, which stands against my ideology to stick to myself only, does just that. The anger subsides and eventually is left to simmer below the surface.   
“I’d kill anyone who touches you.”  
Forehead against forehead, we stare at each other’s eyes for what feels like an eternity. Soon the last rays of the sun disperse and the shadows of the night creep out from their corners.   
“You are so territorial.” it’s meant as a half joke, and thankfully Owen chuckles before grabbing me around the waist and pulling me flush against his chest.  
“You have no idea how they were looking at you. I wanted to strangle them all.”   
Burying his face in the crook of my neck, he growls the words against the skin, making small goosebumps chase up and down my skin.  
“And so very jealous.” the addition to my previous statement makes him snort before pulling away to look at me.  
“Not without reason.”  
Before I have even the smallest of chance to respond to that comment, Owen kneels, throws me over one shoulder and heads for the bedroom with the clear intention of marking his territory. ‘Caveman.’ 

Sprawled on the bed and quickly rid of my clothes, I barely manage to steal a few gulps of air under Owen’s merciless lips, before they coax me to submit. Under different conditions such a scenario would have made him sweat for the prize, yet understanding that he needs it after today’s fiasco, I opt to be a good girl. Caressing my sides and leaving a trail of fire in his wake, Owen finds his way down my body with the air of confidence, characteristic for a male such as him – excessively possessive (the trails of hickeys on both sides of my neck justify that), remarkably jealous, understandably territorial and irritably dominant.   
He comes to stand between my legs, making me spread them wide enough so that his broad frame can fit. To ease the already trembling muscles, he simply hooks them over his shoulders and throws me a predatory look before bending down and demolishing my panties with a simple yank.   
“Hey!” the shout of protest leaves him unfazed as he dusts peppery kisses down the inside of my left thigh.  
A low hum fills the silence of the room as soon as his mischievous lips seal over my centre. I feel like the string of a taut bow – each and every nerve in me is thudding under the tunes of an ancient lullaby, appearing when two bodies collide. And like the arrow anxiously anticipates to be shot, so am I eager to feel him bend me.   
Offhandedly his tongue parts the glistering folds and enters, making my back arch and a low moan to slip past my swollen lips. Without my notice, my hands end up in his messy curls, fisting the locks and pulling him closer. Each stroke and lick send a wave of bliss coursing through my veins, thickening the blood and making the pressure in the pits of my belly grow and demand to be set free. The small, meow-ish moans gradually increase in volume until my voice grows hoarse. Surprisingly enough Owen is patient and methodical in his assault over my clit, using all means necessary to haze my mind and leave me a mess of sensations and lust. When two fingers enter me and immediately curl, I let out a cry and tug at his hair, making him growl and suck at the small bundle of nerves which he has been teasing for some time now. The harsh action elicits a whimper on my side, as pleasure and pain mix and the border setting them apart gets blurred.   
“Owen, please.”   
“What do you desire Andromeda?”   
The way his hands cup my bum as he holds me firmly pressed to his face, how his stubble does strange things to the sensitive area down there while his thick and groggy voice fans across the glistering skin, the manner with which his fingers pump in and out of me almost with the note of punishment are all markers of dominance and possession. The way he handles my body, recognises the signals, knows what I like and hate, what can set me reeling and wriggling are all indication of his territorial claim over it. A claim I don’t intend to gainsay at present.  
“Fuck me. Hard.” panting the words out while my walls clam around his now three fingers, I hear Owen’s low feral growl ghosting over my thigh.   
Pulling the now glistering digits out after one final thrust and making sure I’m watching, he licks each of them separately, making me involuntarily whimper. This sight proves me wrong on the initial belief that there’s no way I can get any hornier than this.   
“Owen.”  
Answering the call, in a single movement his face stops inches from mine. Beads of sweat are rolling down his forehead and chin, making a unique radiance adorn his features.   
“Whose are you?” the growl against my lips as he suddenly dives down and conquers them is barely audible yet full of power.  
‘He owns me – body and soul.’ Realising something that’s been a thought worth pondering for some time now isn’t as shocking as expected; instead it leaves a feeling of easiness in my gut.   
“Yours.” nibbling at his bottom lip gently, I’m rewarded for my obedience with a hiss before his groin rubs against my crotch.   
The friction is enough to send my mind into oblivion, yet Owen’s voice in my ear as he teasingly enters me, shoves my senses to the present.  
“Yours what?”   
The magic word is at the tip of my tongue, yet with the way he continues to rub his hard member against me, occasionally allowing the tip to enter my awaiting cave, any coherent thought is send flying out of the window.  
“Whose. Are. You?” each word is emphasised by a growl in my ear and a thrust of his hips.  
“Yours. I’m yours Alpha.”   
Without any more unnecessary prolonging he buries himself deep into me, making me growl and arch my back. The thrusts initially begin with a rather slow pace, but gradually pick up speed until he’s hammering in me with such vehemence that tomorrow I’ll be most definitely bruised. To top off the ramming of his member in my folds, which by itself is quite the intense and sexually demolishing experience, Owen continuously bites my neck and chest, leaving his trademarks like a sign of warning.   
“I want you on all fours.”   
The words get mumbled against my ear the second any movement whatsoever is ceased. I’d have shouted my dismay, wasn’t it for him already turning me around. On my knees and hands grabbing the railing of the bed, I look over my shoulder at Owen with narrowed eyes.  
“Oh, babe, how I love that provocative look in your eyes.”   
Grabbing my waist for balance and to keep me steady, in a single thrust he rams back into me, making me moan. My head falls between my hands, the hair dangling down like a curtain as I fight for each and every gulp of breath.  
“I love wiping it off your face with my cock.” the words ghost over my shoulder as he bends down and peppers it with kisses.   
The only sound that I manage to produce is a low groan, closely followed by a set of loud moans as once again Owen sets his rampage pace, now slamming even deeper into me. Left on his mercy and drowning in waves of immense pleasure, not too soon I come with a yell, my hands gripping the metal bar for dear life as the last thrusts shake my body vigorously.   
One hand wraps around my middle and I’m yanked up, my back getting pressed against Owen’s chest, his face buried in my hair as we ride out our orgasm. With entwined fingers and my head resting on his shoulder, my hoarse moans tickle his ear.   
“You’ll be my undoing.”  
Currently sprawled over his chest, I can hear his heart gradually normalising its thudding song and the way the words vibrate and hum. My fingers trace random patterns over his abs, making the muscles contract. ‘Ticklish.’  
“You are the territorial one here. If someone has to whine, that should be me.”   
Probing my chin in the middle of his chest, my eyes narrow up at him through the curtain of dark curls that’s currently everywhere. The laugher shakes his whole body, making me bounce.   
“C’mon. I’m better than Delta. She has the tendency to invade personal space and get touchy.”  
Snorting at that and pushing up on my elbows, I give him the ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look.   
“Yea. Because you are the epitome of modesty and calamity. And let’s not get into the touchy part, because it’s too late for such discussions.”   
“Smart mouth.” chuckling and not minding the sarcasm, Owen’s hands wrap around me, successfully pulling me back down on top of his chest where I rest my head and allow the blissful after-sex sleep to woo me.


	3. Echo

It appears a pipe somewhere in heaven got cracked and flooded the sky, which is now overflowing so vigorously that the shower curtain prevents the simplest of tasks from being performed. The worst part is that it’s now two days and the whole island has been under lockdown – the water is running down the streets like huge copper-coloured rivers that occasionally carry along an uprooted tree or a random car. Thankfully before all this begun, I had packed a small bag and moved to Owen’s bungalow, as the raptors appeared to be suffering from severe irritation, which made them unwilling to listen to his commands.   
Unfortunately, what initially I saw as an opportunity to lounge around and spend some quality time with Owen turned into a constant shift between sleep and swimming all the way to the paddock, which happened to be unable to hold such an influx and threatened to drawn the raptors. Naturally I wanted to take part in figuring a way to drain the cage, yet the girls were so terrified by the rising level of water that my greatest concern was their safety and composure. And since the paddock couldn’t serve its purpose, we moved them to their separate cages, which despite keeping them away from the rising water and thus from getting sick or worse – drowned, also restricted the access to them. Not to mention how vehemently they hate it there; if it was possible to chew off the walls and get out, they’d have done it numerous times by now. The only thing still refraining them for going completely hostile, as even Owen cannot reach out to all four of them, is me. Spending as many hours as possible by their side, talking with them, feeding them, and simply patting them through the bars, somehow my presence has come to relax them to a certain extend. ‘At least they no longer try to tumble over the cages. That’s some improvement.’  
With a sigh I close the book I have been reading for half an hour now and go to the window. It would have been pitch black outside, wasn’t it for the emergency lights, and even they aren’t sufficient enough. The sun hasn’t shown its damn scared face in over 48 hours and worry has settled throughout the hearts of all the workers here. Many questions get asked and there’s no one to answer them.   
The loud booming sound of the water falling in showers and the rumble, apart from somewhat acting as a dreadful omen, usually manages to sooth me down in a way.   
“Where’s Noah’s ark when we need it?” a voice comes from behind me and a pair of strong male hands snake around my middle, pulling me against a broad muscular chest.   
“I’m not sure the dinosaurs would be allowed to get in; there won’t be a second bite from that cherry for them.” allowing him to envelop me in a warm hug, the smell of soap and scrubbed clean skin fills my nostrils.  
After a long day spend slowing in knee-deep water, Owen finally returned for dinner; drenched, frozen and barely able to move his body, not to mention smelling like a swamp monster. So I aided him in his way to the bathroom, where he appears to have been scrubbing off the stench of mud from his body up until now.   
He leans his head against mine, his hot breath fanning over my temple and making goosebumps rise all over my body.   
“How are the girls?” I try to distract myself from the way his body presses against mine and the warmth that envelops me like an invisible blanket.  
“Anxious and angry, but they’ll manage.”   
“You say that half-heartedly.” noticing the edge in his voice makes my inner alarm go off.  
His hands tighten their hold around me and he hugs me even closer, as if it’s my body that holds him upright. However, he remains silent and somewhat brooding, his muscles flexing under his warm skin. It’s awhile before he sighs and shifts so that his chin gets propped on my shoulder, cheek to cheek.   
“What’s wrong, Alpha? Disgruntled because you are kept away from your girls?”   
Teasing him results in his fingers immediately attacking my sides as they find that ticklish place and make me laugh. Wriggling to get free, Owen pulls me flush against him and places a kiss on my cheek.   
“I have one of my girls here.”   
The low murmur ghosts over my skin and sends jolts of pleasure running up and down my body. He nuzzles my neck affectionately before placing a few small kisses there. Giggling under his ministrations I turn my head to the side and capture his lips in a fast kiss. He grunts and immediately deepens it, his grip around me loosening enough so that I can turn around.   
“You shouldn’t worry too much. They are strong, tough and impressively hard-headed. I wonder where they took that from?”  
Owen huffs and bends down to kiss me again, his right hand buried in my hair and tugging slightly. Breaking apart seconds later, I look up into his green irises and smile, my own fingers playing with the curls at his nape.  
“I just hate leaving them all alone and locked away.” his forehead presses to mine, our gazes held into an unbreakable bond.  
“It’s for the best. Soon the water will drain away and we’ll return them to their paddock.”   
Instead of getting reassured by my words, Owen appears further distressed, so I take it upon myself to fix his mood as good as possible.   
“You need a distraction or else you’ll drive yourself insane.”  
Raising an eyebrow at me, a certain flame appears in his eyes, making the green grow denser and more illuminating. A small naughty smirk tugs at his lips and his hands tighten their embrace.   
“What do you propose?” his husky voice makes a tremor run down my spine.  
“I have one or two things in mind. You know me – I love getting creative.”  
At the implication a newfound passion resurfaces on his face, yet before having the chance to respond accordingly, I tip-toe and lock lips with him. At first the touch is gentle, feathery, but suddenly is grows heated as we deepen it. Our tongues dance sensually around each other, while simultaneously Owen guides us towards the couch. The back of his legs hits the furniture and I use the small misbalance to make him sit down so that I can straddle him.   
“You know I love teasing you, right?” the mischievous grin that splits my face makes him growl and his hands immediately grab a firmer hold around me so that I wouldn’t run away.  
Notorious with my small games of arousing him and then dashing away, claiming I have some serious business that needs taking care of, not once or twice did I leave him fidgeting uncomfortably in his suddenly way too tight jeans.   
The rain drums across the roof of the bungalow and the tranquillity that seeps in suddenly gets sliced by a thunder that splits the sky and falls somewhere close. The lights flicker once, then twice before completely going off. The room falls into such impenetrable darkness that despite straddling Owen, I cannot see him.  
“Well, that’s nasty.”   
We split up and go fetch whatever luminaire there is in here; mostly candle sticks and a few flashlights. Lighting the candles and placing them on key places, the pitch black demeanour gets wafted away by the soft glow from the flickering flame.   
“Well, it’s better than nothing, I guess.”   
Owen whispers as if the mere timbre of his voice may disturb the sudden serenity and magic that have taken over the space of his living room.   
Chuckling and turning to face him, I flop down on the couch and pat the seat next to me. Begrudgingly he sits down, apparently feeling uneasy with the minimised light. By the way he looks around and appears to have tensed up, a sudden memory of another member of the family acting similarly gets kicked forward.   
Sweet baby Echo, despite being as vicious and dangerous as her sisters, is the plushy of the pack; she’s easy to manipulate and play with, usually assimilates the orders quicker than her siblings and is more inclined to be petted and pampered. And despite the fact that not even once she faltered in her intentions to chase the pig in the paddock during the training, and she even shows some genuine dismay when it jumps into its safety cage, she is the gentlest of them all. During my work with her, as she’s the one that needs the most prep before any real field tests, I came to know a few rather peculiar fears of hers. Like the one where she shows unnatural dread of the dark. Despite being able to see just fine, if not even better when the sun’s off the welkin, once on her own, Echo acquires that terrified deer-look and tries to hide or find her sisters. It’s an irrational fear and like many other things appears to have been inherited from her trainer.   
Owen, despite his strong build and impressive height, the care-free attitude and the macho look, bears such great resembles with the girls that more than once I found similarities that could have derived only from their continuously developing relationship. Despite being deeply animalistic in their behaviour, what a surprise that one is, the raptors appear to mimic their ‘father’ in more ways than simply following his orders.   
Echo took up his playfulness, his desire to be affectionate and to receive affection, his lovable nature and the uncanny inclination to cuddle.   
“What’s wrong, champ? Afraid of some shadows moving in the dark?” it’s bad to be a tease, yet at his slightly horrified expression, I cannot help myself.  
“Andy, don’t even joke with that!” his voice comes out hushed and thinned, making the bubbling giggle die out in my throat.  
“Come here.”   
Since the couch is not respectably big for the both of us to cuddle comfortably, I slide down so that I’m halfway sitting, hallway lying and spread my legs. Now there’s enough space for the male to slide through and come rest on top of me. With hands spread out invitingly at him and a small smile on my lips, he ponders it for a second before with a theatrical sigh, meant to hide his joy with my offer, climbs his way on top. Taking into consideration the fact that he’s heavier, Owen positions himself so that his head rests on my belly and his hands sneak under me, coming to rest with the palms up over my back. Humming with content despite the fact that half his body is sticking out of the couch, he snuggles even closer as my fingers begin to play with his hair.  
“Echo has this knack of showing signs of affection through physical contact.”  
My voice carries in the silence like a delicate whisper, as the serenity of the atmosphere is too good to be disturbed by any loud vocal exclamations. A low purr vibrates over my abdominal muscles and by habit, since once upon a time I had a cat that loved lying on my stomach and literally buzzed with exhilaration, I scratch Owen’s scalp gently, massaging it.   
“God, that feels good.” his low husky voice gets partly muffled as he appears to enjoy my small distraction.  
Time slips away as we lay there together, huddled and keeping the other close; occasionally we talk, but mostly I do everything in my power to ease and sooth him. My fingers tread through his now coppery ringlets and untangle them; from time to time I scratch his scalp with my fine manicure or massage his tense shoulders until eventually I can swear Owen has snoozed off. Proving me wrong, he suddenly shifts and pushes his upper body up on his elbows before leaning forward. His lips touch mine gingerly, almost shyly, before pulling away.   
“Look who’s up from his slumber.” I smile at him charmingly before he once again dips his head down and kisses me.   
“You are a wonder of nature.” his husky from the small nap voice sends chills running up and down my spine.  
Bending lower and placing small pecks on my neck, Owen finds his way down inch by inch, his soft lips not leaving even a speck of skin unattended. Meanwhile his hands, still safely tucked under my body, push up my T-shirt, allowing his calloused fingers to dance over my skin.   
The pitter-patter of the rain is still audible, yet the more Owen’s lips tease me, the duller it becomes, until eventually it’s just the two of us wrapped in a little bubble of pleasure.  
Slow and tender, he takes his time peeling off my Avenger T-shirt and shorts, not even for once ceasing to pepper me with kisses; his a few days old stubble scratching my skin and making me gasp. Cupping my bum gently while his lips leave a trail of kisses down my stomach, a low moan slips past my lips.  
“How come you are so ripped?”   
Jokingly he drags his pokey cheek over the slightly outlined abs on my stomach, a result from long years spend in training by the pool; the trophies and medals back home from numerous championships in swimming can support that.  
“Are you jealous I’m more ripped than you?”   
The whiff of air as he snorts makes me intake sharply. What a tease this man is. Sweet, caring, lovable. Dipping his head so that his nose can trace the bandage of my panties, a shudder skips past my body, making me tremble visibly.   
“Owen.”  
Responding to the call, he crawls back up my body until our lips meet in a delicate, tender kiss that leaves us panting and eager to touch more of the other. My hands fist into his shirt and I tug it over his head, tossing it to the side. The honey-coloured, evenly tanned from many days spend outside skin immediately makes my mouth water so I don’t resist the temptation and attack his neck, sucking and nibbling every now and then.   
“Andromeda.”  
Without further warning but the low whisper of my name, Owen’s hands wrap around me and he pulls us up so that I can straddle him. Cupping his face and leaning in, we kiss again while he quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls the zipper of his jeans down.   
A loud thunder crashes outside and charges the air, the deafening sound startling us. Owen’s muscles turn into steel as he prepares for any unforeseen danger; his hands grip me tighter, ready to shield me if needed, while his eyes acquire that dangerous and alert shine. ‘Military through and through.’ It takes great effort to pull his attention back to me, but after a minute he’s back on track, our lips locking again.  
Soon enough the jeans hit the floor as well as any garment we had left, leaving our naked bodies to seek warmth from one another.   
This yearning for tenderness and pleasure for once is not ignited by wild lust, but equally disarming desire. Owen’s hands slide up and down my sides, his mouth teasing my nipples while his stubble irritates the tender skin. Wriggling over him, my own small games don’t leave him unphased and soon enough there are red trails running all over his chest from my nails.   
“Ride me.” the hushed words against my chest are like a barely concealed plea.  
He enters me slowly, inch by inch, stretching my walls bit by bit and at the same time evoking the lingering sensation of fullness. A second for collecting of breath follows before I set a slow, sensual pace. Each time I dip down, he rises his hips up to meet me halfway. Each time I bend down to capture his lips with mine I find him already lifting his head.   
The candle light makes our bodies glister and shine, acquiring a magical outline. Moans and huffs, growls and hisses fill the air of the room alongside the thick scent of passion and warm skin.   
Owen suddenly growls and his head, up until now resting over my chest, his hot breath fanning across the skin, rises up and he pulls me into a searing kiss while simultaneously breaking the pace with a single sharp thrust. Moaning against his lips, I grab the backrest seconds before his hands envelop me firmer, his fingers digging into my sides almost to the point of bruising, and he begins moving me up and down his shaft with deeper, faster thrusts. No longer able or willing to muffle my sounds of pleasure, moans spill from my lips, accompanied by the sound of skin colliding with skin. Gripping the backrest for dear life as well as balance, I move my pelvis in his rhythm, my forehead coming to rest against his as we stare into each other’s eyes.  
“Eyes on me.” he pants before slamming me down hard on his member, making me moan louder.  
“Owen!” his name is all that gets uttered by my swollen from all the kisses lips, as words are taken from me by the pleasure that begins to collect under the skin and heats up my blood.   
Eventually it’s only low huffs of air that fan across his face as no sound apart from moans gets formulated by my vocal cords.   
“Come for me, babe.”   
That’s my undoing. His rasp order whispered against my ear, his breathlessness, the way he grips me harder under the influence of his own ecstasy and how his hot body sizzles against mine. Arching my back and tipping my head, a scream of utter pleasure rips from my chest, accompanied by his own moan against my neck, where he buries his face. Riding out the orgasm, I literally melt over him, my body enveloping his in a sloppy embrace. The long ringlets of auburn hair stick to my back, a few having fallen across my face. Owen’s low grunt as he nuzzles my neck makes me purr and cradle him closer.   
A chill runs down my body some time later, and that’s when we finally part. After a quick shared shower, we tuck under the sheets of the small bed and cuddle. Once again finding his way around, my snoozing bear crawls over me and his head nests between my breasts, his hot breath tickling the skin through the fabric of the T-shirt. The golden curls are sprawled around him like a halo, his lips slightly parted and eyelids fluttering.   
“What a teddy bear you are.” gently stroking his hair, I feel his lips twitching into a smirk.  
“You can cuddle me all you want.” the sleepiness in his voice makes me meek mentally, before taking him up on that offer and enveloping him in a firmer hug.  
My legs lock behind his lower back while one hand comes to rest across of it quite possessively. In return, his hands once again envelop me in the previous manner by sneaking under me and hiding under the T-shirt.   
“You are such a bad influence on Echo.”  
Not sure whether he heard the last part or not, I finally allow sleep to overpower me and close my eyelids. The rain still pours outside, yet not as passionately as before, which means that soon enough the sun will grace us with its presence again. With a smile on my lips I doze off.


End file.
